Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, and sadly none of the characters from it are mine either.

Warnings: bad language, adult situations… heed the rating.

Prompt: Lover.

Summary: No matter how far or how fast you run, the past always catches up to you.

Dangerous Liaisons

Chapter XI:

Since the moment the door opens, he knows he is fucked up. There he is, right over the threshold but wholly untouchable, dressed in an all white suit and shirt, purple vest and chequered bowtie. Goddamn purple shoes too. A mocking grin plastered on his pale face, and a dangerous glint dancing in his eyes.

In spite of the shock of seeing him, Vegeta doesn't miss a second; the sound of the hammer of the gun clicking into place the only response he gives. Not that it fazes Frieza in the slightest, he is sure that no matter how much the dark haired man is itching to take his life, he won't pull the trigger, he can't. And the feeling of empowerment he delivers from it is glorious and it shows, unguarded, in every pane of his face. The whole posturing is pointless, and they both know it. Still, Vegeta is not ready to admit defeat, and so, his hand is steady as he points the gun right into his smug face.

"You know, that's extremely rude," Frieza drawls in his overly feminine way, gesturing lazily to the gun, "but then again, I don't know why I expect anything different from such a lowly monkey."

He grits his teeth at the comeback of the old nickname and his finger flexes an inch over the trigger, but wills himself not to react. "Where is my brother?" He demands instead. There is no point in dancing around the subject; blunt is the only way from now on.

Frieza makes an exaggerated show of sighing, "No manners at all," he mutters and shakes his head at him. "Do come inside."

"Yes, please do," a new, deep, silky voice joins in from behind, accompanied by a dark, pig-like chuckle, and Vegeta curses inside his head for the tenth time in five seconds. Of course, Zarbon and Dodoria are never far when Frieza is in attendance. And his lack of focus has landed him with them breathing down his neck.

He is caught between a rock and a hard place, the exit is blocked and the answers are inside the apartment, even if it has become the lion's den. They are not making any sudden movements to disarm him, and a short-lived confrontation would only end in him being more exposed than he already is. So, he sheathes his gun and takes a careful step inside, Dodoria's impressive belly grazing his back as he makes his way in.

The door closes and Vegeta takes quick inventory of his surroundings. The apartment is small and grim, kitchen and living room sharing the same space, and a narrow hallway leading to two rooms and a bathroom. There is a big ornate window that takes much of the wall that's behind the couches and the tv set, opening to a miniscule balcony seven stories above the ground. There is another window back at the main room, but if he remembers correctly, it's barred.

Frieza sits in a throne-like armchair, something he is absolutely sure doesn't belong to 18's apartment. And Zarbon directs him, not too gently, to a double couch situated across from it. Before going to take his place at the bar adjacent from them, where Dodoria is already slumped over and lighting up a cigarette.

Silence reigns in an obvious power play. Vegeta and Frieza lock gazes and the henchmen's affected boredom hides a thinly veiled aggression. The tension is palpable, but the atmosphere breaks when the sound of high heels tapping over the linoleum floor can be heard approaching.

"Was that growling I heard?" 18's icy tones resound in the apartment. She makes a quick swipe of the room and her diamond shaped baby blues rest on Vegeta when she talks again, "I hope you have all your shots, that's expensive leather you are sitting on."

She has reached Frieza's side by the time she finishes her sentence. She is so intent on Vegeta that she misses the dangerous way the man's face darkens at the interruption of his clever ser up. And so, she is taken totally by surprise when instead of celebrating her witty jab, he backhands her, sending her crashing to the floor, a tiny rivulet of blood staining her upper lip.

Vegeta smirks and leans back in his seat, rejoicing in Frieza's slip in his control, and storing for latter use the flash of hatred that he saw in 18's eyes. "You always knew how to knock a bitch down," he quips, sending a nasty glare her way.

Frieza doesn't miss his enjoyment, and his eyes narrow just a tinny bit as a malevolent smirk stretches across his face. "You would know all about it," he deadpans and then turns his head at him extending a hand to 18, helping her to her feet and sitting her in his lap. He wipes the blood from her lips with one finger, and caresses her face making her arch into his touch like a kitten. It's just a gesture to placate her, lacking all warmth and affection. "Be a doll and bring me some wine," he orders her and pushes her lightly off of him.

18 composes herself rapidly, used by now to his mercurial moods. "Yes my lord," she purrs, the title he insist be used when addressing him rolling easily from her glib tongue.

She sashays towards the wine cabinets, the tiny deep purple cocktail dress she is wearing, ridding slightly over her ass. She cuts an interesting picture leaned over the kitchen isle, flanked by Zarbon and Dodoria's massive frames encased in their horrid, light blue and bubble pink suits. But Vegeta's attention is firmly set on the man before him.

Frieza waits until she is back with his beverage and takes a sip, watching Vegeta from over the rim of the glass. "So nice to have you back, we missed you," he says, his saccharine tone swiping down Vegeta's spine and making him shiver in disgust.

"Where is my brother?" Vegeta asks again through a clenched jaw, ignoring him.

"Oh yes, little Tarble, so innocent, so tender," Frieza smiles. "I believe he is following in his big brother's footsteps." He is full on beaming when he goes on, "I must admit I have a soft spot for him. Actually, he kind of reminds me of you."

The double intender in his words rings loudly in Vegeta's ear, and he doesn't realize he is standing up until a sharp pain assaults him. Zarbon, who saw his movement, was quick to reach him and jab him in the head with the butt of his gun. "Don't even think about it," he warns, relinquishing his spot at the bar in favour of being closer to his master.

The hit was hard enough to draw blood, and it trickles down Vegeta's forehead. Frieza offers him a white linen handkerchief in mock sympathy, and he bats it away, not bothering with cleaning himself up when the adrenaline is rushing through his veins. "Leave him out of it," he spits, "I'm here. There is no need to get him involved in your crazy plots."

"Crazy plots?" Frieza takes offence, his turn now to ignore him. "Whatever could you be talking about?"

"Going after Enma!" Vegeta explodes victim to Frieza's passive aggression, before the realization that he has said too much washes over him like a bucket of ice-cold water. That hit must have caused brain damage; he has just delivered himself, not to mention his whole gang, to Frieza on a silver platter.

The crime heir is silent for a moment, and then a boisterous laugh comes bubbling out of him. "My, my. How the birds sing these days," he enunciates, mirth still present in his tone. "And here I was thinking I had exterminated all of them."

Zarbon and Dodoria laugh in the background, and 18 is careful to hide her flinching. Vegeta is silent, running through his head every possibility, and coming to the conclusion that the best chance he's got is in redirecting his attention back to himself. "Nothing gets past me, not even your most idiotic schemes," he tells him, inflicting his words with as much haughtiness as he can, and levelling him with one of his superior glares.

But Frieza just laughs again, clearly dismissing his statement. "Good," he replies. "It'll save me the time to explain it to you."

"I don't give a fuck about your plans," Vegeta snarls at him. "I want my brother back, and I want him now."

"Silly, silly Vegeta," he chastises him, darkness creeping into his tone. "What makes you think you are in any position to be making demands?" He leans forwards in his seat invading his personal space, one bony finger stretching as if to touch his cheek, "Your little brother is mine, and so are you, pet."

This time Zarbon isn't quick enough to intercept him, and he lands a punch square into Frieza's face. In a second, he has both of his bodyguards on him. Zarbon goes for a cross hook to the jaw only to be met by a low hard right to the ribs, and Dodoria comes from behind and lands a square hit to his chin. He is rocked for a split second, but quickly crouches down and delivers a high kick to Dodoria's solar plexus, knocking the air out of him and sending him crashing into a bookcase.

18 stands aside, not getting involved at Frieza's orders, and watching with distaste as the brutes break havoc on her décor. Frieza is pissed all right, Vegeta's hit has left a tiny cut on his cheek, and now one of his favourite suites is ruined. But it's been a long time since the last time he felt so much excitement, and so, he lets his men get some fun before stepping in.

It's when Vegeta goes to drawn his gun, that Frieza decides it's time to remind the monkey that he is not only the pretty face of the company. He doesn't need a shooting attracting the attention of the police, even if half the department is in his pocket, his affairs at the moment are in need of the utmost discretion.

Zarbon and Dodoria are still caught in a back and forth of punches and kicks with Vegeta, who is rapidly loosing ground, when Frieza sees a momentary opening in Vegeta's stance and seizes the opportunity to acquaintance his left foot with his arm. Successfully preventing him from reaching for his gun, and dismissing his men from the fight.

Vegeta is thrown off balance for a second, but recovers with a low kick to Frieza's legs, trying to swipe them out of him. It doesn't work. The other man reads his movement easily, and taking advantage of his position, jabs an elbow to his head, following it quickly with a knee to his face.

Vegeta's vision swims and he barely misses Frieza's incoming right hook. He feigns a left to his face and instead goes for quick successive jabs to his ribs. Frieza manages to counter with his own jab to his kidneys, making him double over in pain, and swings a fast elbow to his spine, finishing with another meeting between his knee and Vegeta's face.

The fight is over just as suddenly as it began. Resulting in Frieza dusting off his suit and lamenting about how it's now ruined, and Vegeta slouched over on the floor. While Zarbon and Dodoria stand by awaiting new directions, guns drawn and pointing at his head.

Frieza shakes his head at them and signals to the couch. Vegeta's head is pounding, and his face is caked in blood, but he doesn't lose conscience as Zarbon and Dodoria carry him to it. It actually looks worse than what it feels. Considering he just got into a fight with Frieza, the fact that he is still lucid and has no broken bones is nothing short of a miracle.

18 throws a wet towel at him and he catches it on reflex. "All this time and you are still a dirty beast," she says turning her nose up at him.

"All this time and you are still a frigid bitch," he counters right back at her, spitting a mouthful of blood on her floor for good measure. He just had his ass handed over by Frieza and he is no mood to get into a bantering contest with her.

She is ready to swing another insult his way, but is interrupted by Frieza's voice. "Less talking and more whipping. You look more grotesque than what's usual, if that's even possible," he tells him.

Zarbon's claw applying pressure on his left shoulder prevents him from saying something that will surely earn him another round of beatings, and Frieza goes on uninterrupted. "Listen monkey, things are simple," he says prancing in front of him, the soles of his shoes crunching the broken glass beneath his feet. "In one week you will be fighting at the Helf casino, a box match against that overly advertised Mr. Satan. In which you will accidentally kill him, thus providing my men with a suitable distraction to do their jobs."

Vegeta doesn't bother to hold back a snort anymore. "That's all good and dandy," he cuts in, "but going against Enma is plain crazy. Even if you somehow manage to get the job done, you will have the four Kais on your ass."

"You shouldn't worry your not so pretty head so much," Frieza says, annoyed at being interrupted. "There is such a thing called leverage," he states patronizingly, "Which allows you to have control over someone else's actions. Case in point: little, precious Tarble."

"And what kind of leverage could you possibly have over the Kais?" Vegeta asks, trying to overlook the direct jab at him and focusing on extracting more information. Not that getting Frieza to talk about his plans is an impossible feat. He suffers from the same affection that seems to strike all of the tv villains nowadays; the need to gloat.

Frieza rolls his eyes at him, "Not the Kais, THE Kai," he answers as if talking to someone mentally impaired. "Northon Kaoisama didn't get the memo about the dangers of mixing family ties and a poor taste in bodyguards. You see, his sons, Gregory and Bubbles, are currently taking a little vacation along with my father."

Vegeta is left speechless after that revelation, and his eyes widen in surprise. Northon Kaiosama is the most powerful of them all, only second to the very Supreme Kaioshin, who he is said to be in direct line to replace at any moment. If Frieza is holding his sons hostage, then he has his full backup and thus that of the Kais. He is unstoppable.

Revelling in Vegeta's silence, Frieza is empowered to keep on talking. "Enma is getting to be a very persistent pain at my side; In fact, the whole "hierarchy" of crime is annoying me," he drawls as if bored, taking a sip of a newly acquired glass of wine and sitting again on his armchair. "Enma will showcase at his casino a very special collection, the seven dragonballs. A treasure of insurmountable worth, a badge of status, of power. And I want it. I'll have it."

"Trable is a kid," Vegeta steers the conversation back to where it matters. He has to remind Frieza that if taking his brother was to get his attention, he now has it. "He is not ready to partake in such a job. I will pledge my honour and my loyalty to you in exchange for his safety," he cajoles, swallowing the nausea that those words provoke in him. Now more than ever, he is sure that Tarble won't survive the operation. What Frieza has so nonchalantly implied is a bloodbath, a war against the highest families. He won't have his brother involved in the doomed crusade of a madman for power. He has just signed over his soul, but he doesn't care.

He knows Frieza is a sadistic bastard, who will take pleasure in ending Tarble's life just to get to him. But as long as he needs him to fight against , he will be safe. If he wants him to do it, it's because Enma and everybody else know that he has no ties to the Colds. He just hopes that remarking on his brother's inexperience, Frieza will leave him out of the operation, being as he is extremely picky about the men involved in them.

"You are right," Frieza concedes suspiciously easy. "Your brother is useless, too many brain cells burnt away victims of his nasty meth addiction," he affects a pained expression but it fades away in a second in favour of a calculated smile. "In fact, I have my eye on that blue haired lover of yours."

"Fuck," he screams inside his head. Getting what you want doesn't always come with a price you can afford.

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Review? =)... Constructive Criticism is always welcomed too!

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AN: when my beta gets back at me, I'll post the revised version. Sorry for all the spelling and grammar mistakes... english is not my fisrt language .

Preciousjade76: Sorry for yet another cliffy, ch.12 is almost done! Thanks for the constant feedback!

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